Farewell to the French Riviera! Watercolour Memories of Nice
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Ten years ago, my parents bought an apartment in Nice, on the French Riviera, so that they could escape the dreary Irish winter. They’ve done that in style since then. Over the last decade, I’ve been lucky enough to have joined them in Nice with my young family for holidays. I loved the apartment from the first moment I set eyes on it. The 1930s carrelage tiles, the polished parquet floor, the marble steps leading to an orange tree heavy with fruit. I think I may have seen it for the last time, because my parents have decided to sell up. My father, who is no longer a young man, is more inclined to stay at home in Bray, close to the golf course of which he’s been a member for 66 years. My mother has had poor health over the last few years and doesn’t want to be in Nice on her own. She is genuinely heartbroken to leave her apartment as she loves it deeply, but she knows she has to be realistic. She asked me to come and help her move, packing and sorting and suchlike, so I found myself basking in the sunshine of the French Riviera last week.
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